Over the River
by TerrifiedOfButterflies
Summary: SMUT, SLASH, SEX, RAPE. Ron/Hermione - Ch. 1, 2, 4 Scabior/Hermione WARNING-GRAPHIC VIOLENCE - Ch. 3 Ginny/Harry - Ch. 5 YOU MAY SKIP CHAPTER THREE
1. Chapter 1 Over the River

**Over the River**

It had been months now. Months of running and hiding, months of that damn locket. Never had the trio been so full of anger towards each other. They didn't mean it, of course, they apologized all the time. But none of them could take back their harsh words.

Today was a Wednesday. Hermione sat on her bunk, writing some notes (and drawing some little sketches) in a small journal.

"Oh shut up, Ron. You're just being such a wanker because of that bloody locket."

"Like you'd even know, Harry! You have no bloody idea what it's like!"

"What it's like to worry about people? You think I'm some insensitive arsehole?"

"Yeah, I do!"

"Well I worry about GINNY all the time!"

"You little-" Ron rushed at Harry, fist in the air.

"STOP! STOP IT!" Hermione jumped up, throwing herself in front of Harry. Ron glowered at her, but his fist lowered.

"Right, like I didn't see this coming. You always take his side... have you slept together yet?"

"What? What on Earth are you talking about, Ronald?"

"Oh please Hermione, let me leave, so you two can consummate your delightful "friendship." Like you haven't been fucking for weeks!" Ron threw the locket on the ground and stormed off.

"Ron, stop!" Hermione cried out. He ignored her. She whipped around, watery eyes filled with fire. "You ARSEHOLE!"

"Me?" Harry said. "What did I do?"

"You're a complete dick, Harry! Ron is your FRIEND, not your enemy. What you said about Ginny..."

"I'm allowed to care about her..."

"But you're not allowed to say it to Ron, especially not in that tone! Now it's your turn for the locket, I'm going after him."

Hermione stormed out of the tent. Ron was nowhere in sight. She looked out, trying to see past the autumn foliage, but it was just greens and orange and brown for miles. With a sigh, she took off in the most likely direction. She felt like she walked for hours. Her feet were tired, and it was starting to get dark, still no Ron. As she walked, she could hear a sort of, slurping sound. She squinted in the dark, and saw a stream. Unless the stream was also ginger, she had found him.

"Hey," Hermione said as she dropped into a sitting position next to her friend.

"Hey," he said. "Sorry I was such an arsehole earlier."

"No, it's fine," she said. Hermione hugged her knees. "I feel it too, you know. I miss my parents. And they... they don't even know that I'm gone." She started to cry, the tears quickly escalating. She could barely breathe between her sobs, let alone speak. "I just.. I just want to go home. I just want to go home!" She buried her face in her lap. Hermione felt two strong arms wrap around her. Ron buried his face in her hair.

"Shhh... it's ok..."

"No it isn't!"

"No... it isn't," he said, whispering into her ear. "But we're here for you, me and Harry. Always."

Hermione threw herself into Ron's chest, burying her face in his shirt. He shifted to accommodate her sobbing form, but he never relaxed his grip. They sat there for a half an hour. Hermione sobbed, and Ron said nothing. He knew that he couldn't make her feel better, she just needed to cry. Finally, she pulled her head back, hands wiping away her tears. Ron pulled his arms away, they were stiff.

"Oh Hermione, you're absolutely freezing, aren't you?" Her skin was pale and covered in goosebumps, her teeth were chattering. He pulled off his jacket and forced it around her. She took it gratefully. "Come on, let's go back to the tent."

"Do you know the way?"

"No... But that doesn't mean I can't find it." Ron smirked, and Hermione giggled. He put on arm around her shoulders and the two started the long walk back through the dark.

**PART TWO**

"There you two are," Harry said, "I made dinner bout an hour ago."

"Sorry mate, for everything I said."

"No problem."

Hermione was always surprised by the way they could make up so easily. Like they'd never even fought. She shrugged, and dished up two bowls of the soup that Harry had cooked.

"Where did you two go?"

"There was a little river, who knows where. It felt like miles," Hermione said.

"It was pretty far... I think I saw some fish, though. We should go back tomorrow morning." Ron took the bowl Hermione handed him, and the two sat at the makeshift table across from each other.

Harry was bent over a book. After a few minutes, he was clearly re-absorbed by the words on the page.

"Thank you," Hermione whispered. Ron just nodded and slurped his soup.

"Mffmmg."

"No, I mean it. Thank you. I'd love to come down with you tomorrow, to try and catch some fish? There's probably some deeper water nearby."

"Mff.. Mhmm!"

Hermione just chuckled. She took that as a 'yes.'

**PART THREE**

Sun filtered through the trees, casting shadows across Ron and Hermione's faces. They both sat perfectly still at the deepest part of the river.

"So, how long do we sit here?" Hermione said.

"As long as it takes. I want a fish dinner, how about you?"

"That does sound good," she said.

Time ticked by. An hour, an hour and a half... it was two hours before a fish dared swim close to them.

"Ready?" Ron whispered.

"Yes."

"Now!" Ron jumped on the fish, grabbing it with his hands. Hermione pulled their small net taut beneath his hands. Ron dropped the fish and with a swift upward motion, Hermione trapped it. It wriggled about, struggling hard. Ron took the net from her and swiftly ended the fish's misery... by banging its head into a rock.

"That's barbaric."

"That's life. Are you ready to head back?"

"No," she said, "Let's just rest for a bit. No Harry, no locket, just two friends."

"Ok," Ron said. Hermione sat against a tree, Ron joined her. They were slightly angled away from each other, but Hermione let her fingers brush against his. They sat in silence.

"Ron?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you ever get scared?"

"Scared? Of what?"

"Of, this. Everything!" Hermione said, turning towards him. "That we're just blundering around in the woods while the world burns around us, that we're going to die?"

Ron's face twitched. "Well, yeah, I guess. I'm not scared, really, I'm not soft!"

"No, I'm not saying you are."

"I just... I can understand," he said, "being scared. It's a big deal, really. All this." He gestured up at the trees. "We're just like leaves on a tree, and they're starting to fall."

"Wow," she said, "That was deep."

"Always the tone of surprise..." Ron chuckled. Hermione smiled.

"Do you ever... do ever think about falling?"

"Falling?"

"Falling off the tree. At any second, we could fall. It's so uncertain. It's so... hopeless."

"Hey," he said, brushing hair from her face, "It's not hopeless. We've got each other. And Harry."

Hermione's lips curved into a smile again, she couldn't help it. She put her hand on top of his, on her cheek. They looked into each others eyes.

They both felt it, she was sure. They both felt this desire to move closer. Every time they felt it, one of them balked. Always and forever, someone didn't have the courage to carry through. Someone balked or someone fell off the tree. Would this time be the same?

No.

Hermione let herself fall forward, lips pressing into Ron's. She was delighted when he pushed against her, leaning in, kissing her back. Their lips pressed together, their bodies moving closer. His hand moved across her neck, holding her firmly. Her hand touched his side, fingers slipping up underneath his shirt. Ron gently bit her lower lip, her mouth opened in surprise and their tongues met. As they kissed, they slowly dropped to the ground until they were laying side by side. Ron rolled on top of her, hands keeping him up. Hermione arched her back, lifting her head off the dirt to maintain the kiss.

He broke it, and began leaving a trail of smaller kisses down her neck. He started at her ear and moved down across her shoulder, one hand clearing a path. He unbuttoned her shirt, pulling it open. Hermione gasped at every little thing, consistently surprised and delighted at his actions. He kissed over the top of her bra, both hands slipping underneath her to undo the clasps. He didn't remove it, just undid it.

Hermione was putty in his hands. He kissed down her stomach, her bellybutton, the top of her jeans. Hooking two fingers through belt loops, he slid her jeans off her waist, down her thighs, past her knees... He lifted her legs in the air and yanked her pants clean off. He smiled his big, broad smile and she just giggled. This was what it felt like to be free, to be present in the moment. She loved it.

Ron kissed the tops of her knees, then worked his way down her inner thigh. Hermione grabbed at her chest with one hand as her breathing got out of control. When her reached her sweet spot, he hooked her panties with one finger and pulled them to the side. He slid his tongue out, rolling it over her soft pink clit. She gasped so loudly, he thought for sure Voldemort would hear. But he didn't stop, he kept rolling it around with his tongue, licking up her scent.  
>Ron flattened out his tongue, licking her from top to bottom. She tasted sweet and sharp, and it just made him crave her more. He stuck his tongue in, swirling it around, probing gently. He pulled it out and stuck in two fingers, pushing in rapid succession. Her cries egged him on, he added a third. Her hips began to buck, she was close to caving. She moaned and pulled her hair as he fucked her, manually stimulating her to the point of no return. Hermione felt something inside her snap, like a dam breaking open. Ron's fingers were covered in sticky sweet juices.<p>

Ron pulled them out and sucked them. Hermione sat up, bracing herself against the tree. "Oh, Ronald..."

"That was fantastic, Hermione."

"I'm.. I'm sorry.. I don't know what came over me..."

"Me neither, but it was amazing."

"Thanks, I guess," she smiled, grabbing her wand from her jeans and cleaning up the mess all over his hands. "Harry will be expecting us soon... but we didn't really finish."

"Well, I think we should drop off the fish, then go exploring for berries or something. you're clever, you'll find an excuse."

"Oh Ron," she laughed, truly happy for the first time in months.

"Oh Hermione."

"What are we doing?"

"I don't know, but isn't it great?"

She just nodded, quickly fastening her bra and putting her clothes back on. Ron helped her up, she was just a little light headed.

**PART FOUR**

It was weeks before Harry left them alone again. It wasn't that he suspected anything, it was just that he felt useless and lonely. He was always following one of them around, trying to do all of the chores and feel helpful. It was more of a bother than anything. Finally, Hermione found a way out.

"Harry, can you take the Horcrux for a couple of hours? I found a patch of medicinal herbs, and I need Ron to come help me pick them."

"Well I can help," Harry said.

"No, I'm afraid you can't. They're very tricky plants, and they're a known irritant. If you got them in your scar, it would hurt more than I care to imagine."

"I'm sure it's not a problem..."

"No, Harry. It's just risky. If we didn't need to build up our stores I wouldn't even pick them, because they're so volatile. But we need them, and you just can't help."

"OK, yea, have fun," Harry said glumly. Hermione felt bad as he walked back into the ten like a pup with its tail between its legs, but she had no other choice. Ron was waiting for her.

After about ten minutes of walking, she made it to the clearing they'd picked out as their meeting spot. A soft patch of grass surrounded by non-poisonous bushes and trees. Nothing that could give them a rash were it to get in the wrong place.

Hermione's heart fell when she saw that he wasn't there. Suddenly she felt two arms around her, and someone growled in her ear. "RAH! Gotcha!"

"Ron Weasley, you let me go!"

"Never!" He laughed, "Never again!" He pushed her to the ground, his mouth instinctively seeking hers. She kissed him, running her hands through his hair. They kissed for a few minutes before Hermione rolled them over. She straddled his waist. Ron tried to sit up, but she pushed him down.

"No," she said, "it's my turn."

"Bloody hell..." Ron muttered. Hermione leaned over him, kissing him softly, more like a tease than a kiss. She slid his shirt over his head and pulled her arms back, letting her fingers trace his chest. She ran her hands across his whole torso, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath her fingertips. She could tell that she was smiling like a schoolgirl, but she didn't care. With precision and some skill, Hermione sexily removed her sweater and shirt. She looked down at him, watching as his eyes raced over her body. She slowly removed her bra. One strap, then the other, then she unhooked it, then almost let it fall off, but not. Hermione gleefully held her bra to her chest, laughing at Ron's face. He was practically drooling. After this minor torture, she pulled it off and dropped it on his face. She listened as he muttered 'bloody hell' over and over again.

His hands snaked up her arms and across her chest, touching her breasts and squeezing. She let him touch her, head tilted back with pleasure as he explored her sensitive areas. He traced her nipples, her warm shape, before finally letting his hands rest on her sides. Hermione leaned back, running her hands down her body. She touched herself slowly, sensually. Her hands slid across her crotch, then touched on his. She could feel him hardening, and it gave her pleasure to slowly undo his belt. Ron was pleased to, he just kept stammering "bloody 'ell... bloody 'ell..." over and over again.

Hermione moved backwards, pulling his pants and underwear off. She then removed her own, and rocked back into a straddled position above him. He grabbed her arms to brace her as she pushed him into her. She cried out in pain, and a few blood drops fell out.

"Sorry, I'm, I'm new at this..."

"That's fine..." Ron said, rolling them over. "Do you want to keep going?"

"Y-yes... ow.. oh god that hurts...Please, I want this. I want you." She dug her nails into his strong shoulders as he began to pump inside her. Ron held himself just inches above her, his face buried in her neck. The made love slowly and surely, until the pain starting to ebb more gently. "Oh god.. that hurt less... I.. oooh god... it feels... Oh yes!" Hermione cried out, grabbing his hair with one hand. Ron smiled, and began driving into her harder. He grabbed her leg up in one hand, pulling it out and away, making his thrusts hit her deeper. She cried out, saying his name and asking for God. He grunted and sped up, feeling his animal instincts take over.

They fucked in the grass for what felt like an eternity crammed into the space of a few seconds. Hermione cried out with pleasure and pain, and ron just grunted as he ravaged her virgin body. His hands raked across her chest and sides. He felt the most pleasure when he pinned her down and just let himself go.

Hermione liked it the same. She liked the feeling of his weight, his firm arms and strong shoulders. She's grab tightly to his muscles or to his arm, urging him deeper inside of her. She wrapped her legs around hip waist and felt her hips begin to buck again. Ron could feel her tightening around him and he began to lose it. He pushed himself into her with all his might and held on, shouting out something between a grunt and a war cry as he came inside her. Hermione broke at virtually the same time. They mixed inside of her, and Ron fell down, panting. They lay side by side, for some time, panting and trying to stay awake. Ron wrapped his arms around her and she curled up against his chest.

As the breeze picked up, the two accepted the need to move. They dressed silently, then just stood there. Hermione didn't know what to say.

"Hermione..."

"Yeah?"

Ron's face twitched. He didn't know what to say, either. He stepped close to her, kissed her on the lips, and held her body against his. He bent down and whispered in her ear. Color rushed her face, and she threw her arms around his neck. He pulled her so tight against him he was afraid she might break.

"Yes," she said, "yes." She grabbed his hand, interlocking her fingers with his, and the two began the short walk back to the tent.


	2. Chapter 2  Through the Woods

**Through the Woods**

They were so happy, all the time. Every time Harry turned around, they were laughing. Sometimes, at night, he would pretend to fall asleep immediately, then he would just listen. As soon as they thought they were alone, Ron would come sit on Hermione's bunk. He would hold her in his arms, and they would just talk. Something was going on. He never saw them kissing or... anything else. They would just cuddle or hug or hold hands, and they'd talk.

One morning, Ron went out to collect firewood. As he left, he and Hermione looked at each other and smiled.

"Um, Harry... I think I'm gonna go double up on the enchantments."

"Yeah right."

"Huh?"

"Like you and Ron aren't together!" Harry's fingers played with the locket around his neck. "I've seen you, Hermione!" Her face turned red, her jaw dropped. "Not like that, but I know what's going on. I'm not stupid. I've seen all those little looks, and at night you stay up whispering."

"Harry,"

"No! Don't try and deny it. He's out there waiting for you right now, isn't he?"

Hermione bit her lip and nodded. She could feel tears brewing behind her eyes. "Harry... I'm so sorry..."

"For what? For sneaking around behind my back? For lying to me? For being happy? What do you expect me to say?"

"I don't know... please don't be mad, Harry. You're my best friend, I never wanted to hurt you."

"Hurt me? I'm not hurt, Hermione. I don't even care. Just stop pretending that I don't know what's going on. I'm not stupid," Harry said, "Go. Your boyfriend is waiting." He turned his back on Hermione, pretending to be interested in something on the table.

Hermione crossed her arms, shifting weight from one foot to another. She was reluctant to leave.

"GO!" Harry barked at her. Hermione jumped at his harsh tone. She turned around and ran out of the tent.

She ran all the way to their meeting spot. Ron was just standing there, hands in pockets. When he heard her coming, he turned around. She threw herself into his arms. Ron caught her, almost falling off balance.

"What is it, Hermione? What's wrong?"

"He knows, Ron!" Hermione said, crying. "Harry, he's seen us, and he knows."

"What?... Is he angry?"

"Yeah, but he's also wearing the locket, so it's worse than it would be normally," Hermione sniffled. Ron reached up and wiped the tears from her eyes. He held her face in his hands and kissed her on the forehead.

"Hey, hey... I'm sure it will be ok. Crying isn't going to make it better. Harry needs some time to cool off, we might as well spend that time together."

Hermione nodded, taking Ron's hand. "I don't much feel like sex, if that's alright."

"Yeah, of course."

"So.. we could walk around."

"Yeah, sure," Ron smiled at her.

Hand in hand, they wandered through the woods. Every once in a while, Hermione would point to a plant or a tree, and tell Ron what it was and what it could be used for. He listened to every word. They laughed and smiled. They came upon a bush of brilliant blue flowers. Ron bent over, picked one up, and tucked it in Hermione's hair. She blushed a brilliant scarlet.

**PART TWO**

Harry stood about 200 yards away, sitting on the lowest branch of a tree. He had found a little spot, overlooking the small river, to relax and calm down. Hermione and Ron had inadvertently wandered right to him. He watched them laugh. Their fingers were locked together. When Ron put the flower in her hair, Hermione blushed like Harry had never seen. They were so happy... And here was Harry, being an asshole.  
>He felt like such a schmuck. Yeah, he missed Ginny. But that didn't give him reason to yell at Hermione and Ron. They were just following their hearts. Plus, if Ginny was here with them, he wasn't sure he'd be able to keep his hands off her.<p>

Ron looked up and froze in his tracks. Hermione, who was mid-sentence, stopped and followed his gaze.

"Harry," she said. She started towards him, but Ron held her hand tight.

"No, let me," he said. He dropped Hermione's hand, shoved his fingers in his pockets, and ambled off towards his best friend.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey," replied Harry.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah. Sorry for earlier, I assume she told you."

"Yeah."

"Yeah... I was a real asshole. I'm glad for you, really. But now... I'm the third wheel."

"Nah, mate..."

"Yeah, Ron! It's not your fault... t's not my fault! It just... is. Just... don't have sex in the tent, ok? I sleep there too."

"Um... ok..."

"You already did, didn't you?"

"Yeah."

Harry and Ron both chuckled. "Well... at least one of us is getting... it."

"Haha... yeah..." Ron smirked, eyes glazing over, staring into the distance. Harry knew that Ron was thinking about Hermione. Harry punched him in the gut playfully. "Ow! Watch it!"

"I could say the same to you."

"Alright," Ron chuckled. "We good?"

"Yeah, we're good." Harry said, jumping off the tree branch. He patted Ron on the shoulder, and starting walking back to the tent. "You know Ron, this tree is surprisingly comfy." He turned away, leaving Ron laughing.

**PART THREE**

Hermione walked over to Ron as Harry walked away. "What happened? What did he say?"

"We're good. He understands, and he seems to be feeling a lot better." Ron snaked his hands around Hermione's waist, pulling her closer to him. "I'd say, he understands... completely. And is supportive. Completely." Hermione got the gist of what he was saying, and blushed. Ron's hands rested on her hips, their bodies were so close. Hermione wrapped her fingers around Ron's jacket lapels, slowly pulling it off his broad shoulders. He smirked flirtatiously. God she loved that smirk! It was confident, but not cocky. Sometimes, after his smirk, he'd lick his lips a little. Hermione took it as a challenge. It was his way of inviting her in, of showing Hermione how much he wanted her. She loved it.

Ron smirked at her, following it with just the tiniest licking of his lips. Hermione bit her lip, yanking the jacket all the way off. She slid her hands up underneath his white tank top, feeling his chest underneath her fingers. She pulled the shirt over his head. The sight of his chest still made her gasp a little. He was muscular, but not overly developed. He took her momentary pause as his chance. He grabbed her firmly by the waist again, kissing her with force and passion. Their lips met, and Ron forced his way in. His fingers pulled the hem up her sweater up, his hands resting in the small of her back. He grew hard beneath his jeans. Hermione felt it rubbing against her crotch, and she felt herself getting wetter.

Ron's hands pulled her sweater off, then ran through her hair. He pulled her head back, kissing her neck. She purred as he kissed down her shoulders and over the tops of her breasts. He skillfully unhooked her bra and pulled it off. Hermione stood up tall and proud as Ron's eyes marveled over her body. It was her turn to smirk. He never quite got used to the sight of her pale skin. His fingers caressed her chest, her breasts, as his pants grew tighter. Hermione reached out, undoing his belt, button and zipper. She pulled his pants and boxers down off his hips, trying not to be surprised by the cock that was awaiting her. She was used to it, but its size and erectness still brought something out in her. Something animal.

Hermione grabbed Ron's jacket and threw it down on the low-hanging branch. She pushed Ron in the chest, forcing him to sit down. His eyes were wide, like a deer in headlights. Hermione, still in her jeans, straddled Ron's lap. She pressed her chest into his face, fingers curling his hair. She slid down his body in her sexiest manner, until she was on her knees. Looking up at him, Hermione pulled the head of his cock into her mouth. She sucked it, playing with it with her tongue. He moaned, bracing himself against the tree. He dug his fingers into the bark as Hermione sucked on the first few inches. She moved her head back and forth, sucking it like candy. She experimented with her tongue, and was rewarded with groans. Hermione liked hearing him moan under her touch.

Hermione pushed herself further and faster, wincing as she felt the tip poke the back of her throat. Ron put one hand on her head and encouraged her to take it just a little further. She did, almost choking as she deepthroated his cock. She couldn't breathe, no matter how hard he tried. Finally she had to pull away, gasping for air.

"Oh, Mione... I'm sorry.. that felt so good..." Ron helped Hermione to her feet.

"My pleasure," she said. Once she got a breath in, she was ready for the next step. Hermione took Ron's hand in hers and guided it to her already wet crotch. She rubbed his hand against the outside of her jeans, biting her lip. Ron smirked.

"Oh, baby."

"Oh, baby!" She laughed, putting her hands on his shoulders. Ron's fingers undid the button on her jeans. He slowly, sensually pulled down the zipper. He hooked his fingers through her underwear and pulled them down along with her jeans. He moaned softly when he saw her pussy, ready and waiting. Hermione walked herself towards him, wrapping her arms around his neck. Hermione lowered herself onto Ron's long cock. She moaned and winced a little, it still hurt, but a good kind of hurt. Ron grabbed her by the hips, guiding her up and down. He thought he would have left permanent marks on her hips by now... his hands always found the same spots. He had started to think of them as his spots. His place on Hermione, his alone.

He eased her up and down over him, feeling her warmth. She was quite the moaner. One time, he had called her "Moaning 'Mione," but she didn't take to that very kindly. Ron's instinct was to throw his head back and close her eyes, but he wanted to look at her. Her porcelain skin, her red lips, her curling brown hair... he wanted to drink her in as she rode him.

Hermione lifted one leg, Ron automatically reached out to hold it up. He began flexing his hips, thrusting into her. She clung to the back of his neck, fingernails digging in. She could barely stand up anymore. Ron put his other hand beneath her butt and stood up, hefting her into the air. They were still attached. Hermione gasped, throwing her arms around his neck like a monkey. Ron pushed her up against the tree and resumed pushing into her. Hermione began to lose it.

"Oh God... oh God... God! Oh... Ron... yeah... yes.. yeah... Ron.. Ronn!" Hermione screamed his name as she came. The sound of her screaming for him brought Ron to the edge, and with a few short and fast pumps, he was coming too. As they both finished and came down, they stayed close. Sweaty skin touched sweaty skin. Ron pressed his forehead against hers, panting. Hermione put both feet on the ground, and laughed. "That was splendid."

"Splendid? Haha it's not a spell, 'Mione. Or a book."

"So? It was still... splendid."

Ron chuckled. He pulled them apart and picked his wand up from the ground. With a wave, he cleaned them both up. The two slowly got dressed. Hand in hand, they walked back to the tent. Nothing needed saying.


	3. Chapter 3 To Malfoy Manor We Go

**To Malfoy Manner We Go**

**WARNING - BECAUSE APPARENTLY YOU NEED IT.  
>The following material is exceptionally dark and graphic. I guess the M rating and the fact that I warned you in the description isn't good enough, I've been getting reviews saying that you are not responsible enough to judge for yourselves what is suitable for you.<br>If you want a mommy to hold your hand and make you feel warm and fuzzy, go back to chapters one and two. This chapter is not for you. **

They were running.

They were running so fast and it hurt so much, but they couldn't stop. All three were throwing hexes and jinxes left and right, but there were enough Snatchers, fast enough Snatchers, that they might not be able to win.

They couldn't... shouldn't apparate unless they were all holding hands. Even then it was risky... Ron knew that. So they kept running. But it didn't last. Soon they were all caught, all trapped. Hermione threw a stinging jinx at Harry's face, she didn't want him to be recognized.

"Don't touch her!" Ron shouted as he was dragged by a particularly nasty Snatcher.

"Leave him!"

"Your boyfriend'll get much worse than that, if he doesn't learn to behave 'imself," Scabior said as he strolled into the clearing where the trio had been gathered. "What happened to you ugly?" The Snatcher holding Harry looked up. "No, not you... What's your name?"

"Dudley, Vernon Dudley."

"Check it," Scabior said, sauntering over to Hermione. "And you... you're my lovely." He walked up to her like he was a schoolboy, getting close to her face and whispering, "What do they call you?"

Hermione put on her best brave face and said, "Penelope Clearwater... halfblood." Scabior reached a hand up to her face. He pulled a strand of hair as he leaned in closer, so close she was afraid he would stick his tongue in her mouth. She tried to shift away, the smell of his rancid breath made her want to puke.

"There's no Vernon Dudley on 'ere," one of the Snatchers piped up.

"Hear that ugly? This says your lying. How come you don't want us to know who you are?"

"Then it's wrong, I've told you who I am."

"No, no! Let me go!" Hermione cried out. Ron struggled, fighting against the two snatchers holding him back. They both had to use their full force to keep him from breaking free.

Scabior dragged Hermione, her hands tied with her scarf, back through the woods. He found a nice secluded place, with a nice wide tree, and he shoved her up against it.

"Now, now, beu'iful. Why are you lying to me?" He stroked her cheek with his dirty finger. He brushed a curl away from her face. Pulling a wand from his pocket, he waved it in the air and Hermione felt the scarf around her hands writhing. Her arms were tugged apart, bent backwards. The scarf tightened and stretched, chafing her wrists. She was tied to the tree, unable to move more than just kick and wriggle. Scabior pressed his body against hers, stepping on her toes so she couldn't kick him. "Why won't you tell me your name? I bet it's as beautiful as you..." His hands wormed their way up underneath her shirt. She struggled.

"No! Let me go, NO!"

Ron shouted "HERMIONE!" and lashed out at his Snatchers. They kept firm.

"RON!"

"Now now, my pretty, you better stop all that. I don' wanna hear you scream another man's name. I only wanna hear yours... or mine." He smiled. It was like Ron's smirk, but more malicious and lacking proper dental care. "So either you tell me your name, or we get real close and personal." His fingers pressed up over her bra.

Hermione spat in his face. Scabior slapped her. "Alright, you got it." He snarled. He ripped the front of her shirt, his grimy hands pawing at her breasts over the top of her bra.

Hermione instantly regretted it. She didn't want this, it felt wrong. She kept shouting "No, no, NO! No, please no..." over and over again, as tears began to pour from her eyes. But Scabior didn't listen to her cries. He didn't care. His hands tore her bra open. She screamed.

Ron screamed back, "HERMIONE!" He pulled himself out of the Snatcher's grasp and took off at a run. He was hit with a stunning spell, and fell down into the dirt. The Snatchers grabbed his jacket and dragged him back to where one was holding on to Harry. They tied him up properly.

Hermione kept shouting as Scabior's hands groped and squeezed her naked breasts. She turned her head to the right. Scabior grabbed her jaw with one hand and made her look at him.

"Look at me... look at me pretty. Just look right into my eyes. No? Then you're asking for it." He growled. Her pushed his groin against hers, and Hermione was shocked to feel him hard. He ripped her jeans open and yanked them down. Opening his, Hermione began screaming again as he thrust inside her. Scabior's hips pounded against hers, flesh hitting flesh. His was dirtier and sweatier, and smellier. The rancid Snatcher moved his tongue and lips across her neck and chest. Hermione wanted to vomit. He sucked and kissed her skin, leaving a slime trail that would probably never be washed away.

"Noooo... please... noo... noo..." Hermione cried out. His hands found their way to the spot. Ron's spot. Where was Ron? she wondered. Something must have happened to him, she could no longer hearing him growling and shouting from below. He would have fought to the death to keep her from this. As the Snatcher pounded her pussy relentlessly, she thought about Ron.

She thought about his hair, his bright ginger hair. She thought about his smile. She thought about those nights when they would stay up talking. He would lock his fingers with hers and sit behind her. Hermione fit so perfectly snuggled against him. Her head was a perfect fit for his chest. He would hold her until she fell asleep, and sometimes she'd wake up and he'd fallen asleep, too. Their fingers would still be locked.

She loved the way his fingers felt against her face. Whether he was tracing her jaw, or holding her as they kissed, his fingers felt right on her face. Everything about him felt right to her. She pretended that it was Ron making love to her now.

But it wasn't.

It was a snarling, drooling, pig-headed, pig-dicked savage. He was ripping through her like she was nothing. Hermione kept crying, and Scabior kept fucking. She realized he was talking.

"Oh yeah... yeah bue'iful.. oh god you're so soft... you're so soft and warm... Oh god, I'm gonna cum..."

"No, no... stop it! No!" She tried to close her legs, tried to pull away, but she was trapped. His body shook as he came inside her.

When he was done with his savage needs, he pulled out and zipped up his pants. "So, you gonna tell me yur name, or do I need to leave you here?"

"I told you my name... Penelope Clearwater... Please don't leave me here," she sobbed. Scabior waved his wand, his magical one, and the scarf moved again. It tied itself neatly around her wrists, binding them in front of her.

"Clean yourself up," he spat at her. Hermione tugged at her jeans, pulling them up. She adjusted her jacket to cover her torn clothing. She still looked like a wretch. Scabior grabbed her by the hair and dragged her back down to the group.

"Now, back to you, Ugly." Scabior walked over to Harry, staring close at his face. He jabbed Harry's scar with his wand. "Change of plan," he said, with the realization of what, of who, he might have found. "We're not taking this lot to the Ministry."


	4. Chapter 4 The Love Knows the Way

**The Love Knows the Way  
>(Feel-good ending) <strong>

He still loved her. As Ron looked down at Hermione's sleeping body, he couldn't help but notice her scars. Cuts, scrapes, mudblood. He winced just thinking about the year they'd had.

It was over now. It was so far over... but it lurked in their hearts every day.

Hermione was spending her summer at the Burrow before returning to Hogwarts with Ginny to finish her seventh year properly. Mrs. Weasley had insisted that the two girls share a room, and at the beginning they had intended to. But the first night, the very first night Hermione was there, she couldn't sleep. She felt emptier... than before. She didn't feel empty, she had so much good in her life. But something was missing. His hands, on her hips or intertwined with hers. Their late night conversations, the smell of him on her skin. She missed it. That very first night the clock rang 12, the Weasleys were all fast asleep. Hermione was laying on her bed, curled in a ball, staring at the floor. She was so focused on keeping the bad out of her mind that she didn't even hear him enter. She gasped as someone appeared beside her, but her heart slowed a good deal when she realized it was just him. He smiled at her, that same old smile, and Hermione felt all the old emotions rush to her eyes. Sadness, anger, hatred, longing, love, misery... All of a sudden her face was buried deep in his neck and she was sobbing.

Ron had no idea what was going on, but he knew what he needed to do. He wrapped her up in his arms and kissed the side of her head. Her hair was soft... it smelled like her. He breathed slowly, in and out. He missed her. Hermione couldn't sleep without him... And he couldn't sleep without her. Their relationship was equal, they were each in it as deep as the other. Ron wondered if Hermione really knew how much he loved her... probably not. He made a mental note to remind her every day just how much. As Harry was snoring loudly in the room they shared, Ron was staring at the ceiling. He was missing the feel of her hips, the smell of her hair, the taste of her... nevermind. When he heard the clock hit midnight, he noticed a Daddy Long legs perched on the bookshelf above his bed. Now was as good a time as any.

Hermione clung to him until the clock rang one. She finally lifted her head, wiping the last of the tears from her eyes. She pressed her forehead against his and whispered, "Thank you."

"My pleasure," he said. Ron eyes her up and down. She was wearing a new pair of pajamas. A pair of long pants and a tank top, blue. The pants had cherries on them. The material was soft, Ron's hand slid up and down over her knee. "You look... amazing." Ron laughed a little.

"Oh, shut up..."

"I'm serious," he looked into her eyes, "you look so amazing. Always!" He shook his head side to side. "I swear woman, you do it on purpose to torture me. Do you want me to beg?"

Hermione giggled, covering her mouth to stifle the sound.

"Alright fine... Please Hermione! Please no more! Your beauty is killing me as we spe- UGH!... Oh no, I am fallen." Ron clutched his chest and fell over backwards, miming his death. A loud laugh escaped Hermione's mouth and she hear Ginny roll over in her bed.

"Shhh!" Hermione warned, finger to her lips. Ron sat up, putting his hands on her hips. It felt right, to both of them. "You'll wake Ginny," Hermione warned.

"We aren't doing anything wrong," he said, "besides, she can go sleep in my room with Harry." He smirked cheekily. Hermione smacked him on the arm.

"Actually, that's a good idea." The duo gasped as Ginny climbed out of her bed and walked over to the door. "The love in this room is making me sick."

As she closed the door behind her, Ron and Hermione fell over, laughing. Hermione lay on her back, Ron leaning on his elbow next to her. She looked up at him, wishing she could get lost in those blue eyes.

"Come on, it's bed time," Ron clucked like a mother hen.

"What?"

"Come on! Turn yourself around missy, it's time to sleep!" Ron used his arm to forcibly turn Hermone over, only tickling her slightly... but on purpose. She laughed, and after some squirming, they found themselves in their old spooning position. Ron slid his hand under her shirt, finding the perfect spot on her hip. He moaned softly when he found the spot, his spot. Hermione bit her lip, pleased. His arm under her head, snuggled together in perfect harmony, the two slowly began drifting to sleep.

It became a habit. Every night, after everyone else went to bed, one of them snuck into the other's room and lay down in the other's bed. No nonsense, just straight to sleep. They never needed to plan whose bed they'd use that night, they just knew. It became uncomfortable, almost painful, for either of them to sleep alone.

That was how they knew, years later. When their children asked them, "How did you know? How did you know you wanted to get married? How did you know you were in love?" Ron and Hermione would tell them about the sleeping. About the desire to be close. Not just during the day, not just wanting to be "together." Their love was so strong, they wanted to be together even if they weren't conscious. It wasn't about seeing or hearing the person they loved, it was deeper than that. It was the faith that they'd fall asleep together and wake up exactly the same. Because that's how it was when the world was falling apart, when You-Know-Who almost won. That's how it was at the absolute worst... so that's how they had to be at their best.


	5. Chapter 5 To Carry the Weight

To Carry the Weight

Ginny shut the door to the room she shared with Hermione as quietly as possible. She looked like a ghost in her white tank top and boxer shorts, her pale skin glowed in the pale moonlight drifting in from the window. She supposed it should be called "The room she shared with Hermione and now Ron" but that was far too long a title. Ginny's feet barely touched the floor as she snuck across the hallway, tiptoe-ing through Harry's open door. He was deep asleep.

Ginny lifted up the corner of his blankets, sliding herself in next to him.

"Whaglpth...?"

"Move over!" Ginny whispered. Harry jumped, clearly startled.

"What... but... huh?" Harry squinted at Ginny as she snuggled in next to him, face to face.

"Your roomate and my roomate have decided to sleep in the same bed, in the next room. I decided not to stay."

As Harry's eyes focused, he noticed her smile immediately. It was sneaky, flirty, dangerous. Her ginger hair cascaded across her shoulders and his pillow. It was a bright contrast to the white of the sheets, her pajamas, her skin. His fingers traipsed up and down over the skin of her arms. Harry could see it happening, and could recognize his own fingers, but wasn't aware why or when he had started doing it.

"Are they...?"

"No, no..." Ginny said. "But they're laughing a lot and being lovey-dovey. Sickening, isn't it?"

"Yeah, totally..." Harry paused. "... but it's also kind of nice."

"Yeah, I guess." Ginny smiled. They were dancing this awkward dance of courtship. They were stuck at the intersection of "Obviously" and "Dangerous," or was it "Completely" and "Worthit"?

Actually, it was more like Wizard's chess, Ginny thought. Somebody could get hurt, even broken. You and your opponent take turns, strategising. Your move, their move, it was a perfect pattern. Eventually, someone wins... but no matter how the game ends, isn't the fun all in the playing? In taking pieces and giving pieces, in feeling equal to someone. The world disappears, it's just you and the other player, until the end. Yes, that was it exactly. Love is a game of Wizard's chess, and Ginny was waiting for Harry to move his next piece.

Ginny had moved a pawn first, and Harry had countered with an equal move. Ginny took his bishop, Harry took a knight. But Ginny was the queen, and she was ready to begin playing for real. Could she count on Harry to match her again? Was it even her turn to move?

"Harry, what are we doing?" Ginny asked. Harry yanked his hand away. "No, no, I like that," she blushed, "but where are we going? Are we dating? Are we friends? When I kiss you, I feel something. You feel it too, don't lie. But it's like we're too scared to keep playing this silly game." Ginny lifted a hand and rested it on the side of Harry's face. "I'm here, Harry. I'm here."

Harry always felt so nervous around Ginny, and he knew it was stupid. He could die and come back to life, but he couldn't talk to a pretty girl. Well, screw it, he thought. Harry leaned forward, pressing his lips against Ginny's. Their mouths connected perfectly. Her lips were like rose petals, and when he kissed her, she bloomed. Harry slipped his tongue into her mouth, kissing her with everything he had in the middle of the night. Ginny kissed him right back, unfaltering.

Eventually, they parted for air. Ginny smiled. Harry smiled. He felt... normal, for once. Like any other teen boy, sneaking kisses in the middle of the night with a beautiful girl.

The taste of her mouth on his tongue made him feel dangerous. Everything about Ginny felt dangerous, which is probably why they'd been avoiding this. Love is a heavy burden to bear, especially alone.

Harry slid his hand up Ginny's side, down into the small of her back. He pulled her in gently, she moved willingly beneath his guidance. Harry kissed her again, this time with more focus, more passion. He was gentle, but firm. He thought Ginny was pulling away from him, but she was gently biting his lower lip.

Kinky.

Ginny rolled herself on top of him, Harry's hand still on her lower back. His other hand reached up, pushing a strand of orange hair behind her ear. She blushed a little, smirked slightly, and kissed him again. There was no space between their bodies, only their clothes kept them apart. Harry's fingers pushed their way beneath her shirt and traced her spine, sending Ginny into shivers. He could see the goosebumps shooting across her chest.. across her breasts. Ginny sat up, straddling his stomach with her pale, tempting legs...

"I'm here, Harry," Ginny said, "I am right here." Her eyes locked with his, Harry understood what she meant. "All you have to do is ask." Her voice quaked slightly. Harry sat up, forcing Ginny to rock back onto her butt in his lap. He put both his hands on her back, and she grabbed the back of his neck for stability. Their faces were less than an inch apart. Harry kissed her again, feeling her surrender to him. He pulled back slightly, and whispered, "Please."

Ginny sighed, releasing her body to Harry. They both knew that he didn't need to ask, that what happened here tonight didn't depend on "Please" and "Thank You." But somehow, his whispered word changed everything. The rolled over on the bed, Ginny laying on her back with her knees locked around Harry's hips. He couldn't keep himself from kissing her, from kissing those beautiful lips. While their tongues were busy, Ginny slipped her fingers underneath Harry's tank top and began pulling it off. She tugged it over his shoulders, it caught on his arms and head. Harry straightened up and threw the top to the floor. Ginny ran her hands across his torso, fingers splayed over his muscles. She wrapped her fingers in his dark curly locks, and Harry bent back over, resuming their passionate kissing.

Ginny's hips bucked upwards, meeting Harry's. She snaked her fingers down his back, around his waist, to those hips. She began pushing down his shorts, exposing the hardening dick she had already begun to feel. Harry stood up, feet on the floor, and kicked off his shorts. He stumbled a little. Ginny chuckled.

"Oh, you're laughing huh?"

"Mhmm.. what if I am?"

"Oh, I'll show you..." Harry pulled the blanket off the bed, pulling it out from under Ginny, and covered himself with it like it was his invisibility cloak. He pulled Ginny's shorts down over her ankles and completely off, then spread her legs apart, bending them at the knee. He made sure that he was completely covered by the blanket, he wanted this to be a surprise. Ginny could always anticipate what he would do next... this should be special.

Harry started with one slow lick across her clit. She moaned, her hips shifting in his hands. Then he licked again, then again. He flicked his tongue quickly back and forth, up and down. Her response was pleasing. His fingers took over for his tongue, rubbing her clit hard and fast.

His tongue probed her pussy, licking up the juices that his fingers caused. Her hands pawed at his head through the blanket. He used his whole mouth on her now, sucking and kissing. He didn't exactly know what he was doing, it was mostly trial and error. As he licked and kissed more savagely, her hips bucked more wildly. His thumb pressed down on her clitoris, pushing it down and rubbing side to side. Her hips bucked more forcefully and more quickly, she was on the edge. He stuck his tongue inside her and swirled it around, giving her the last bit she needed. With a squeak and a load moan, something snapped inside Ginny and she came. Harry realized just how good she tasted. He licked up almost all of it. Harry began kissing his way up her stomach. When his mouth encountered the fabric of her tank top, he began pushing it up. She didn't stop him.

He held himself up and pulled the tank top off her body. She was panting heavily, just watching him. He had never seen that look in her eyes before. There was a deep fire burning behind those chocolate eyes, something sensual and unexpected. She was so hot, he thought her flesh might burn his lips off. He had set fire to her body, and looking into her eyes was like watching her burn.

She blinked, and Harry found the courage to move again. He returned to the valley between her breasts, kissing her warm skin. First, he let his mouth hover over her right nipple. She sucked it, rolling it around in his mouth. Then he switched, giving her left nipple the same treatment. He pressed his body against hers and rolled them over, but didn't realize how close to the edge of the bed they were. Harry landed on his back on the floor, Ginny landing on top of him. He moaned, and she laughed.

"Oww..."

"Oh, Harry..." she chuckled.

"It's not funny, that really hurt..."

"Well, maybe all my family will think it's just a ghost. A moaning, thunking, sweaty ghost!" She couldn't keep herself from laughing. Harry grabbed her hips and pulled her into a more comfortable position on top of him. Ginny, still burning with passion and partially wrapped in a sheet, took the opportunity to brace herself above him. He could feel her damp pussy straddling his hard cock. He swallowed. "Let me make it better." Ginny and Harry briefly made eye contact. He saw that slow-burning lust in her eyes. In this moment, she reminded him of a Goddess. Ancient, burning, lustful. Forever.

Then she pushed herself down onto him, and all thought was wiped from his mind.

Ginny groaned as she took him into her. She braced herself against his chest and began working her hips up and down. At first it was slow and painful, but she quickly picked up speed. Harry's face was scrunched up, he was moaning. Ginny thought this might be his first time, she couldn't be sure.  
>Let's make it a good one.<br>As she found her speed, she rode him harder than a broomstick. His cock pulsed inside her as they worked together. She panted, beads of sweat rolling off her skin. Harry panted beneath her, face screwed up in concentration. The longer they fucked, the more humid the room became. Harry's hair was plastered against his forehead. His scar was still visible. Ginny looked at it, and was inspired to go harder.

She flexed her hips as she pushed up and down, up and down. She was rewarded with a moan from Harry. Ginny stuck close to Harry, leaning into him. She ground her hips against his, rolling faster and faster. He pushed up as she pushed down, and the result was magnificent. They both cried out, Ginny grabbing onto his shoulders from support.

"Again..." Ginny whispered. They both pushed with force and felt Harry hit something inside of Ginny. He rolled over, holding himself above her. He began pushing down, finding his own rhythm. He braced himself on the outside of his right arm, and let his left hand massage her breast. Ginny rolled her hips with each of his thrusts. He moaned with each exertion of sexual energy, feeling his butt tighten and release. Harry slid his hand beneath Ginny's thigh and pulled it up, giving him better access. This was all they needed. With one final push of force, a deep, stuttering thrust and a huge buck of the hips, the two came.

Spent (and partially covered in sheet), the two lay on the floor, panting. Harry was the first to stand. He then extended an arm to Ginny and helped her up. She moved towards her clothes, but he didn't let go of her hand. He gave her hand a quick tug, and pulled her into his arms. He held her, hands running up and down her back, and kissed her softly on the lips.

"Mmm...Harry... we should get dressed."

"Mmm..why?" Harry asked, as they tried to speak between kisses.

Ginny pulled away. "Because I am not a quiet lovemaker, and I don't want to be grounded forever."

Harry laughed. He and Ginny dressed silently. He smirked as he saw the way her clothes didn't quite fit. They looked, wrong. They barely clung to her thin frame. Harry caught Ginny's eyes and realized he'd been staring. She was rubbing her arms nervously, knees and elbows pulled inward. She felt awkward, isolated. Harry walked over to her, and pulled her in for another kiss.

"Stay with me?"

"Hmm?"

"Will you stay, here, with me... tonight?"

Ginny looked at him, slowly gaining her quirky confidence back. "I told you... you only had to ask." She pressed her lips against his and pulled him down into his bed. They giggled and kissed as they snuggled underneath the crunkled blankets and sheets.

Love is a heavy weight to bear, but luckily. neither of them was bearing it alone.


End file.
